The Confessions of the Doctor
by Ava Ross
Summary: He had saved your life that day and ever since you had travelled with him, through time and space. Yet, there is a burning ache slowly destroying you from inside. Why does everyone fall in love with the Doctor? Why did you? The Doctor, everlastingly hiding his feelings, confesses finally of his everything; from his nature to the hurt his losses caused him...to...


Dear readers, this was supposed to be a one shot, yet I got carried away and this occurred. This story happens after Donna's departure: the Tenth Doctor hasn't regenerated yet (and anything causing it didn't happen, for those wondering River Song is vacant of this narrative). Basically, this is a Reader x Ten fanfiction in which you have become his companion after he saved your life (which is quite casual for him, eh?). I decided to write this fanfic after reading most of the Reader x Ten I could find because I simply couldn't locate many fanfics with a girl struggling through life, having a hard time with herself, a shy, but utterly honest girl, not necessarily craving to bang the Doctor. I also portrayed how I believe the Doctor would react when he just couldn't take anything anymore, when he finally opens his heart for real, no hiding, no filter, just him revealing his feelings, just him confessing everything he had felt since he regenerated. This story is about affection, heartbreaks, living again and confused love and I do hope you'll enjoy it.

I must also clarify that if you are triggered by **suicide mentions and thoughts** , or having a rough time, this fiction can be tricky: it can bring you comfort but can also trigger you, _so please be careful, ok?_

* * *

Oh, the Doctor had shown you the incredible! Weeks after weeks, years after years, it was never tedious with him. You had dropped what you would never dare to call home behind you the 14th of March; a little bit before the snow shifts to puddles and ruts to giant lakes where our boots, spongy as they are, drown in the half cool half-frozen waters leaving our feet wet and bruised.

Your body was throbbing of the bites of the glacial blast however, you were inevitably injured within, the severe chill in you growing devastatingly with each delayed pump of your crippled heart, with each gasp lingering through your lungs. You had abandoned yourself on the top of McAnster bridge, let your spirit rise as your body took the fall.

He had found you, cradled your congealed body in his arms and saved your life. When you had woken up in a metallic room, walls glowing of tints of blue, you had deemed you were divagating, that you had succeeded. Nonetheless, in the events following your failed commit he had shown in every way possible that you were definitely and thoroughly alive. And that, you'd always owe him.

You had found under the rotten parts of your core pure happiness, a desire to compete against the tragic obstacles of existence, a need to live, a purpose to be alive. You were amazed by the universe, the cosmos you could explore, the people you would meet, the ones you had met, whether famous or not you didn't care. You nourished of people's soul. And there was the Doctor.

After two years spent by his side, he hadn't altered in character for a dime: jolly and awfully clever he was, but still so secretive. He had revealed to you the obscure facts about Gallifrey, Time War, the Daleks, Rose, Martha, Astrid, Jenny, Donna, but it had often appeared as he was reciting his lessons or definitions in the Mighty Universe Dictionary. He'd always conceal his sentiments, except in moments of utterly pure resentment or pain. Otherwise, his joy was shallow and his feeble simper, on the border of fraud.

It was probably why you couldn't take it anymore.

You hated that after so long he couldn't confess any of his feelings to you. Not that he had some for you, but you only wished to understand him better, not that you didn't know him...but there was this part of him lurking, like a lost segment of a puzzle, that people eventually neglect, pack the whole game inside its box and then decide to chuck it away years later, asking themselves why they didn't when they first knew about the lacking piece.

But you wouldn't toss him away, how could you ever do that? Yet, lately, there was this aching pulse in your guts screaming, roaring, demanding for more. You were frightened that you couldn't keep quiet for so long, mostly that now you acknowledged how you felt about him.

It didn't have a specific origin that you could place on a calendar or on a map, neither a plausible ending, even though you had attempted to burn it down, understanding the sentiments would never be reciprocal, mostly after what had occurred with Rose.

God knew you had tried. You couldn't let yourself ruin this: You had punched the TARDIS's walls a couple of hundred times out of outrage concerning your vulnerability, your knuckles tinting casually of the colours of your constant distress; you had blasted music in your ears until throbbing headaches and nearly drowned yourself crying in the bathtub. Nevertheless, the inclination you had for the Doctor was ultimately so powerful that eventually, you were only ruining yourself. And you had started resenting your entire being again for it.

Your legs floating in space, you were perched on the edge of the TARDIS's porch, contemplating the universe for the last time of that point of view. Soon enough you would be back on the Earth, living a normal life, regretting for the rest of your miserable life the demand you would shortly ask him. For a moment you considered to hop off to spare your brittle heart the incoming blow. But it was required for you to live, you couldn't leave the Doctor without a word. You owed him that.

You could hear the Doctor complimenting the TARDIS in the background and you pushed yourself not to whine. You had to be pleased. You were at home right now, and so close from now you would be homeless. Taking a deep breath, you aspired the scent of the air purified by the TARDIS, you listened to its familiar beepings easily comparable to a soft lullaby when in bed. But most ardently you listened to his voice. Him.

And he, his person, as he always did and always will, gave you the strength to commit to the impossible. You stood up, your body convulsing, your stinging red eyes battling the hot tears and marched, eyes closed, breath short, to your final destination.

"Doctor," you commenced, your voice already broken.

He swiftly turned around, giving you the impression that he was focusing his entire mind on you.

"What is it? Are you alright _," he asked, his eyes brows furrowed at the view of the tears you struggled so stubbornly against, now flowing like a rain of asteroids on your cheeks.

He took a step forward to meet you, but you held a trembling hand in front of you to make him stop.

"Take me...," you started, struggling to say home, because Earth wasn't home, home was here in the TARDIS. "Back to Earth...take me out of here," you spat, your demons shrieking out of your mouth.

He was so startled, he didn't breathe for a good minute.

"Why?" he faintly asked, his skin racing to a delicate white.

Did you really have to tell him? Of course, you had. You couldn't just demand to go back there, after two years, for no genuine reason. But you couldn't tell him, your frail soul couldn't take extra brushoff. It just could not. Not now that you were a thousand percent certain that you were unconditionally and madly in love with someone. That man you knew you would give without hesitating your life for, your heart on a golden plate, your promises to him and his wishes on a to do "even if I perish doing it" list. But would your soul be strong enough to formulate the words carving themselves in your brain every day and night? No.

"Just take me back there," you whined, not so convincing nor convinced.

His features softened and he seized gently the hand you were still holding in the air.

"You really think I'm going to let you go back to a place where you almost took your own life," he delicately announced, trying to find your nervous gaze.

You lift your face to look directly into his eyes.

"I could die whenever or wherever, humans are small like that. 'See there are a dozen options in the TARDIS, so don't act like I'm a child, I know what I'm doing. Just take me back already, I don't plan to die anyway... or I would have killed myself in here a long time ago" you said, half sure of yourself, gathering the last amount of strength you had.

Your words didn't alarm him at all, truly his gaze had deepened.

"Ok, but tell me why before I do that," he inquired, deadly serious.

"Take me there first, and I will," you argued vainly.

He studied your face, doubtful, but he had learned to trust you. With a sharp (but you recognized hiding his devastation) look, sending shivers through your spines and more tears to your eyes, he managed weakly to set the TARDIS's commands and land carefully on Earth: "An hour after you had jumped off the bridge," he had affirmed blankly.

"There, now tell me, _," he ordered, crossing his hands tensely on his chest.

"I... just couldn't go through another second... being with you knowing that... you would never... ever feel anything for me... not even a slightly close to the way I love you."

Your words hang in the air for a millisecond and the Doctor blinked a couple of time, in shock.

"Thank you, Doctor," you paused, drying the flow of tears forming tiny rivers on your cheeks, "for everything, really."

He hadn't moved, hadn't breathed. He was staring at you, speechless. You untangled your fingers of his and turned around, walked unwillingly to the door. As you opened it you foolishly wished for a word from him, a simple goodbye, a wait, but you knew it would never come so you rushed outside, feeling your insides turning into pools of blood and vacuum, to every stage of hell and agony.

What you found was a distant memory, the old glacial breeze waiting for you. The wind you had once swear to yourself you'd never come back to was there to chuckle at you, to slap you furiously in the face. You were wearing a wool pull and leather boots, but you didn't care, you hugged yourself to preserve unnecessarily your warmth and you headed off to anywhere far from the TARDIS, never glancing back.

Mindlessly, you ghostly wandered on a desolate route, and soon enough you found yourself standing on the bridge you had jumped off two years ago. You gawked at the furious stream and you condoled it just as much as you pitied yourself.

He had saved you, but it wasn't because of that that you loved him. It was him, his laugh, his gleamy chocolate eyes, his messy hair, his voice, his posture, his humour, his brilliance, the way he turned everything in a joke only because the only thing he'd wanted to turn as a joke was impossible to; he was a walking disaster and a forgotten martyr, he was beauty of mind and pure trouble, he was force and vulnerability, he was the cosmos and you were just a dead particle ready to be expelled in nothingness.

Your fingers were numb of the cold and rapidly your whole body was. It appeared great to feel nothing. Actually, it was torture to sense nothing outside but everything inside. You were trapped in yourself, your feelings only pouring out of your orbs, your scarlet burning orbs. You collapsed on your knees, still staring at the violent waters and your ears caught your raw breath.

You were alive. You had lived. He had shown you stars, nebulas, black holes and galaxies, dead planets and ones that were more lively than everything combined, seas of water and trees, reversed gravities and time gaps. He had shown you the impossible, and yet you had left for silly human feelings.

Hitherto, you were celebrating that the river had never got you alive, you were thrilled that you had fully lived in the last months, and this pain was worth it since it indicated that it was real. All of it was.

Your back caught the thick ground and you closed your eyes, feeling snowflakes flooding on your eyelids. In your mind was floating his face, and you could hear his voice yelling with enthusiasm his battle cry: Allons-y!

Your mouth twisted in an attempt of a smile, nonetheless, it only made you weep louder. You laid there until night came, your clothes glacially wet and your teeth chattering violently. You had no will to stand up or to keep lying on the ground. You were stuck in a parallel universe, in a gap in time and space, you had perished as you left the TARDIS: you were dead. But you wanted to live.

At this realization, you opened your eyes and discerned the storm had reached its ending and the stars were guarding you. You sat down examining the woodland surrounding you. You remembered the time you would have felt alarmed of the obscure, unknown areas punctuating the landscape. Notwithstanding, now that you understood absolute eclipse and that you had seen the unknown, a tingle of normality twinkled in the vacuum reigning in you.

A painful flash in your mind brought you back to reality. He had withdrawn, but no tears came, nothing came...

"_, _, where are you, _," yelled a distant and familiar voice in the dim forest.

You hiccuped out of surprised. You were fantasizing, it was unthinkable. You stayed quiet, thunderstruck.

"_, please answer me, _, please... bullocks, arghhh," shout the Doctor, nearer.

You gradually turned your face to see a hazy outline wearing a sumptuous long coat in the distance. You ached to advise him to remain away, not to come near you, but you recognized you would have lied. Yet, you couldn't move nor articulate. But no need there was, he had seemed to notice you from his position.

"_, Rassilon," he roared, out of breath, but reassured.

You gawked restlessly as he worked in despair to reach you. Snow had turned to ice and his demarche testified it. When he finally got to you, he let out a lingering sigh.

"For Time Lord's sakes, I underestimated the wideness of this forest, much much mucho mucha trees" he stated, poking his head with his sonic screwdriver.

You ignored his comment and kept your gaze steady on him. He noticed that you were completely unamused and he kneeled to be at your height.

"Please don't look at me like that," he begged, his low-pitched voice surprisingly shaking.

"You should b-be glad I even glance at you, you should th-thank me, y-you should appreciate that I s-sacrifice all my fucking mind to look at you when you speak to me, when you don't even address me a single word after I r-rip off my heart of my ch-chest; you just uninterestedly stare at it a-agonizing on the floor, mute. Hope y-you had your f-fun," you slurred, your voice hoarse and you tongue numb.

"I'm so sorry, it's not what..." he started, shutting tortuously his eyes.

"What I think? I b-believe that you perceive it as n-normal for people to fall in love with you dontcha? Sarah-Jeanne, R-Rose, M-Martha, and more ye? I know you l-lived 900 years but that d-doesn't mean you have to t-treat the ones you don't love so c-cruelly, you could have at l-least told me y-you resented me, it would have b-been better than nothing a-at all," you shrieked, your voice raising weakly words after words.

He opened his eyes and looked at you intensely.

"I'd never hate you, _, never," he swore heavily. "Please come back with me in the TARDIS, you are going to die in here of hypothermia and I can't allow that."

Your jaw tensed and recognized you were freezing dead. He reached a hand to your cheek but you pulled away vainly.

"Then w-w-what?" you asked, leery.

"Then we can talk," he declared. "Please let me explain, but I can't here, you are paralyzed of cold, and I swear even if you don't want to come back in the TARDIS I'll take you back in my arms if I have to!"

The tone he employed pulled something out of the hole formed in you. You weakly nodded.

"Thank you," he murmured shakily.

You tried to stand up but your articulations were obstructed by sharp shards of ice. You didn't know if it was about the cold or about the freezing cool depths bleeding in your chest, but your mind was too weary to even think of any of the possibilities.

For a second time, he had carried you in his arms.

You regained consciousness in the TARDIS. You hadn't had to look around, the constant background noise confirmed it to you. When you belatedly resolved to switch to sight recognition process, you stared for a while at the silver ceiling, then turned on your side to examine the room. Your glance immediately fell on him, causing a deep wound in your heart to burst instantly into flames.

He was perched on a seat by your side. His eyes were sealed but something about his posture assured you that he was far away from resting. His mouth was twitched and his nose wrinkled. His hair was messier than ever and his jaw was tense. He had something bestial, desperate, devastating.

Then you noticed your clothes lying on the ground and you promised to yourself that you would come back to that point later.

Sensing your movements, the Doctor scowled at you, weariness painting his face.

"How are you feeling?" he demanded, concerned.

You frowned.

"Okay that was an idiot question, I'm sorry, err...," he excused himself.

"Yeah, that was almost offensive," you whispered huskily, not recognizing your own voice.

He stood up and approached the bed, kicking your clothes mindlessly.

"Alright, I want you to listen to me all the way until I finish talking, no interrupting, can you do that, _?" he pleaded, his gaze throwing shades of sadness directly to your soul.

"Yeah, just please don't insert "we can still be friends" or any derivative or I'm going to hit you until you can't regenerate anymore," you announced, your voice scraping the back of your throat.

He scarcely smirked, took a deep breath and placed his hands on the covers of the bed.

"Each regeneration of me loved individually. I can recall who the other me's loved in the past as scattered memories. If I focus, I remember the feeling each of them inspired me, although it seems that every regeneration brings a somewhat new err distinguishable blank sheet to my mind. Mostly when it comes to the emotions I feel and how I deal with them."

"It's not for nothing that we call them rebirth, Time Lords regenerate and every new Doctor have are sometimes slightly, sometimes immensely diversified, not only physically but mentally. We do keep equivalent values and stay averagely the same, but when it comes to love it is so tricky that I would risk myself saying that each regeneration would be, in fact, completely separate individual when it comes to this."

"If you consider me as a continuation of all my regenerations, I accept that you think of me as a...err how do you call this. Womanizer? Yet, you can't really blame me for loving truly a feeble amount of women in my 905 years of living. The others were "crushes", experiences, oh don't be so startled, I was theirs too. It doesn't mean I loved them if I shared a kiss with them, far from that, I did appreciate them though, don't get me wrong, still it wasn't "love"."

"On the other hand, if you consider me as this and only this regeneration, I can assure you those almost new-borns beating hearts only felt pure and romanticized love a sheer amount of: twice."

You blinked a couple of times and tried to recall another name you might have missed. Failing, you thought: "Oh well, just another secret he kept away from me". He gulped audibly and observed the tension arising on his jaw.

"As you know Rose Tyler was the first, she was dazzling but I failed at keeping her safe, lost her," his voice broke and he stared at his feet. "I gave her a second chance, though, a life with a double of me, we had everything in common, except our sensations... so I never felt the kiss she gave him after he pronounced the syllables I had imagined before he was even born of my flesh and mind."

His fists clenched and tears were accumulating in his wrinkles. You believed he would cease speaking but his feelings only made him talk faster, linking ideas with more ardor, his cries getting heavier. You had never witnessed him like this, it appeared as he had broke and he had to throw out in urge the everlasting shattered pieces of him before it annihilates his whole self.

"When I observed the version of myself with her, him sharing with her the embrace I had died for...Seeing her with him and not with me made me desolate, furious. I thought she would refuse to be with him, that she would conclude I was her Doctor and she would come back to me in the TARDIS and that her kisses would be spread on my lips, her hands on the back of my neck, my fingers wrapped around her waist...but she simply accepted what I said, naively. It was the day I lost her...and locked my heart away for the universe's sake."

His tears were dropping on his thighs, soaking the membrane of his clothing. You gradually sat in your bed, putting carefully your hands on his. He lifted his head and seized what you had offered him with a, until now, unknown yearning.

"I presumed I had dropped the key in a void, or that the cage was rusted shut, I carelessly considered that this feeling would never come back. Oh, I'm such a fool," he moaned, his sobbing getting uncontrollable.

"No you're not, you said it yourself, you are brilliant, clever, fantastic," you interfered, despite he had requested you not to.

"Always so kind to me, _," he grimaced, shaking his head.

He took another big inspiration and tightened his grip on you.

"I observed you earlier when you were sitting on the porch of the TARDIS, staring at the universe. I remember pondering: "Don't you ever let her go. You have to find a way to defy time, space, or any authority forcing the aging of her atoms. Oh, eternity would be only bearable with her, eternity would be a gift with her." Then you stood up as I was carving your picture in my mind, hair carelessly floating, face reflecting a wise and powerful mind, those authentic eyes, always catching mine every time they stared at me or away, crystal clear mirrors to my soul and golden doors to yours. I was just finishing the first draft to the presumably most beautiful art of all time when you asked me to take you back to Earth."

"At first, I guessed I had misinterpreted you, I imagined you wanted me to bring you someplace you were too shy to claim, or maybe the exceptional plan that had struck your spirit had caused the flow on your cheeks, but no, it was sin, it was nightmare, it was dread and evil steering me to Trenzalore. You were so stubborn, you wouldn't tell me the reason of your demand, I could see pure terror emanating from you, your usually pale and calming halo was mat black with shades of a darker color, the sight of you, earlier so peaceful and now so apocalyptic horrified me, put me out of my mind, enough to make me take you back to a place you had almost taken off your own life."

"Before you departed the TARDIS, you granted me of your core like no one ever did beforehand. It was genuine, it was brave and worthy of every Aurora borealis in the world; it cemented my feet to the ground with power more compelling than gravity and pulled my own very soul out of me. Your feelings are so powerful I could sense them passing through me, vibrating through my core, sending signals to my whole being. I had never considered you could feel anything as pure for me, as I am tainted, covered of ashes while you are covered of colors, shades of sunsets and seas, and like an idiot, I kept talking about Rose and why Martha had retired, Astrid's and Donna's unfortunate departures. Love for me was all about heartbreak and soul-shredding..."

He took a deep breath.

"You were gone for ten minutes when I understood that you wouldn't come back, that you had gone in the bitter cold with nothing to protect you from the weather, that you had departed and as the absolute fool I am, seriously I don't get how I can be so brilliant, clever yet so idiotic? Anyway, I had said nor done anything, though for a moment I was sure I had because trust me my thoughts are loud, _. I then rushed outside, panicked, and tried to find the bridge, knowing you'd be there, instincts I guess, but I had stationed the TARDIS somewhere different than the last time and the damn trees on this planet all look alike."

"When I found you, cradled in your own poor frozen arms, snow forming you a new skin, despair trying to rename you of its name, teeth rattling, aura splattered all around you, tainting pure white with infinite dim corruption, I then realized that some humans even more brilliant than me. The way you fought with strength, even on the edge of dying, the way you stared at the deadly current that almost took your life with such courage, refusing to plunge, the way you still found a way to argue with me while you were freezing to hell...the way your feelings for me nevertheless shone in your eyes even though I had given you all the reasons not to retain them. Pure strength."

You stayed quiet, your ill brain assimilating each statement he had said and all his posture and touch was communicating.

"So you...," you commented, frowning.

The Doctor plunged his gaze into yours and silence reigned. You bit your lips and inhaled sharply. It couldn't possibly be that simple with him, there has to be something utterly complicated and advanced coming in the dim background.

"Well, the reason why I couldn't answer to you earlier, despite the fact that I was totally startled, is that we simply can't be...anything more than we were, more than we ever should be," he garbled, grudgingly.

You sighed, avoiding his eyes: there was the confirmation of your biggest concern becoming your reality.

"I'm so sorry, so deeply sorry, please forgive me, but this is unthinkable," he apologized, staring blankly in front of him.

"Why, tell me one valid reason why I should even accept your excuses, that you refuse to be true to my, your feelings," you exploded vainly, water dropping gradually of your eyes. "Why can't you let yourself be happy?"

"You should be scared of me, not in love," he yelled suddenly, storming away. "They all should have been terrified, I'm a monstrosity. I can't be loved, I'm a destroyer of worlds and an inhalator of galaxies, you should stay away from me. I can't be happy, I have not this right after all I've done. After all the lives I've taken away, all the ones I couldn't protect, all the ones I couldn't save."

Grasping his hair, he left the room, leaving you horrified of the words he had just proclaimed. Shakingly, you walked out of bed, wrapped the sheets around you and followed his steps to the control room.

"Doctor, wait for me," you begged weakly. "Look at me."

He turned around, his knuckles white, his face distorted. He had lost control and a hurricane of emotions seemed to hover him, causing his movements to be raw, wild, unplanned. You were standing in the doorway leading to the control room, hands grasping on the bedcovers embracing you.

"You are not what you've done and you've saved an enormous amount of people. You prevented the universe bursting so many times that it's a daily routine for you," you pleaded, sadness molding your features.

"You're blind, I've killed, slaughtered people, I've..." he roared, settling his hands on your shoulders.

"But it was never your choice, you never wanted this," you cut him off with a raspy voice, staring at him fiercely.

"What makes you so sure?" he asked, his teeth revealed, his eyes popping out.

You understood that he was attempting to scare you off, now that he had shown you his soft side, he was terrified that he had let his guards down. It was his last attempt to convince you of his crimes, but you knew him, you were perfectly aware of everything. You had accepted his wrongs a long time ago.

Now, he was looking away, fighting the fireworks exploding inside of him, making war with his conscience and responsibilities. He removed his grip on you and his arms fell numbly on his side. As you glide your fingers into his, he observed you. The tension was still lingering in the air, but he had relaxed, besides grief was still intertwining with his pupils.

"The truth is I don't think my hearts can stand another loss like that," he confessed, his voice breaking in the end. "You will someday die," he commenced, but the words were leaving him, he didn't seem to be able to achieve his sentence.

You cupped tenderly his tense face with your cold palms and pressed lightly your lips on his, not minding the blankets deliberately gliding off your body. You distanced your face slightly to look into his chocolate eyes. You almost heard the alarms ringing in his head.

"Yes, I will die," you acquiesced with strength, "but so does every human and other creatures and they still permit themselves to be alive, so why can't you just live right here right now, why can't you appreciate that at this precise moment, somewhere irresolute in time and space, we are here in the TARDIS, together."

You waited for him to react but you could see his stubbornness gradually failing. He was unyielding, his jaw clenched into your fingers, but something in his gaze demanded more so you linked your breaths together once more. And he inclined.

Pure craving it was.

His lips were sweet, burning hot, frantically massaging yours. You wondered by the need he was showing if he would ever be able to stop now and giggled, causing your teeth to knock. He bit your lips sensually and you immediately let your hands wander to the back of his neck as he grasped passionately your waist.

You answered by licking his lips, causing him to open them, a moan escaping of his throat. You captured the opportunity to insert your tongue into his mouth, his own organ welcoming you. Your fingers roamed to his hair and seized vehemently the messy locks as he imprisoned you between him and the TARDIS's wall.

As your back met the chill metal structure, you took advantage of the grip you had in his hair to deepen the kiss, your tongue dancing with his, swirling madly a waltz of heavenly sin. Out of breath, you unlocked yourself and took a moment to inhale. Unable to hold back for another second, the Doctor had started to visit your neck, pecking, sucking here and there the tender skin. Your breathing raw, your heart pumping at its maximum rate, your flesh paprika, your mind...blank, yet overjoyed.

Suddenly, you perceived yourself sinking, but the Doctor was there to catch you in your fall. You had overestimated your current capacities and dizziness took over your senses.

"Rassilon, _, you should have stayed in bed," he murmured, his breathing sharp.

"You shouldn't have left me," you accused him, with limited force.

"You're right, from now on, I guess I'm stuck with you until...whenever we can reach," he smirked, winking at you.

You scoffed on his chest. He smelled so good, a mix of cologne and fresh wildflowers.

"Can we just stay here?" you asked, never wanting to leave the place he'd finally accepted to keep you as his tiny eternal burden.

"But you have to rest," he argued, his lips into your hair.

"There's the floor and I've got the blanket," you pointed to the sheath left a behind.

"Out of question," he cut you off, taking you in bridal style back to your bed.

He laid you on the bed and then left to come back with the sheets he spread on you. After making sure you were warm, he crawled back in his chair, looking at you pouting under the covers. He rolled his eyes.

"What?"

"Can you join me, it's cold," you demanded, your covered cheeks as bright as a rose.

The Doctor stood up, flushed. Without a word, he kicked off his converses and undressed a bit to get comfortable, to finally join you under the bedding.

In the beginning, it was clumsy: you were both on the extreme opposites of the bed. But he reached to you and you enveloped your arms around him, pulling him closer, your head on his chest. He carefully wrapped his fingers around your waist, making sure to be as decent possible while taking account that you were entirely naked.

You could catch his heart beats rise as he slid his hands on your exposed back. You adjusted easily your still unsteady breathing with the trembling rhythm he had because you could sense every atom in him moving and leaning on you.

"_, I realized I haven't said it properly. I must admit I was terrified of the truth. I can't stand to be alone… and err…you have to know that this is not about loneliness or needing a crutch to hold on to, I just… completely and purely love you… err.. Blimey now would be a time for a good quote from ol' Shakespeare, but I guess I'll keep it simple I love you, _," the Doctor muttered with difficulty, realizing his own words.

"I love you, Doctor," you smiled, looking up to catch his eyes resting on you, his signature smirked hanging on his lips, a meager flush tinting his skin.


End file.
